


BCE (Before Cult Events)

by Ayri



Series: Painful Death [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders Shorts (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Little Shit, Anxious Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Blood, Caffeine Addiction, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Choking, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders is a Little Shit, Depression, Divorce, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drinking Games, Drinking to Cope, Excessive Drinking, Family Issues, Fluff, Food, Gen, Guns, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, Knives, Mental Health Issues, Partying, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Police, Protective Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Shooting Guns, Sleep | Remy Sanders is a Little Shit, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Teen Angst, Teenage Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Teenage Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Teenage Rebellion, Teenage Sleep | Remy Sanders, Teenagers, Underage Drinking, Violence Mentions, death mentions, the tags give a scary impression but it's just teenagers being dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:29:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23896831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayri/pseuds/Ayri
Summary: Teenage Debauchery? Teenage Debauchery. Pre-Painful Death for the Lactose Intolerant Events. There are spoilers for the main story.They're all little shits and they're going to do stupid shit and nothing can stop them from doing stupid shit. They're not ready to run off and join a cult just yet. They are ready to party and cope terribly!
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Sleep | Remy Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus Sanders, platonic dukesleepxiety
Series: Painful Death [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687501
Comments: 114
Kudos: 101





	1. Home Comforts

**Author's Note:**

> These events are dumb and also pre-joining-a-cult-events. There are spoilers. So please read [Painful Death for the Lactose Intolerant](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23408695) first.  
> Let me know if I forgot to tag anything. There's a mix of humorous events and angst in here.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fun time at the playground

Virgil was hanging upside down on the monkey bars and cackling while Remus pulled back on his arms, letting go and letting Virgil swing upside down on the bars. Remus climbed up the small ladder and pulled himself on to the top of the monkey bars. Virgil used the inertia to grab the next bar and swung from his hands, using the bars as intended with his knees bent high so he wouldn’t skim the ground.

Remy leaned back on the top of some posts used to support a slider, taking a sip from a hip flask and watching Virgil giggle and swing about. Remus lowered his hand between the bars and Virgil grabbed on to it, shrieking with a laugh when Remus pulled him up from between the bars. Virgil laid horizontally across the top of the two beams and melted into the spot. Remus reached out his hand to Remy, who passed him the flask. Virgil made grabby hands at the flask after Remus took a swig, and Remus chuckled and passed it along to Virgil who took a small drink and flopped his head down to look at Remy and pass the flask back.

“Hi, Remy!” Virgil beamed at him and waved.

“Hey, babe,” Remy waved back. “Havin’ fun?”

“Duh,” Virgil laughed. “I’m with you fuckfaces. I love you,” Virgil sang cheerily.

“Love you too, V,” Remus laughed and looked up at the faded stars in the sky.

The park was unlit this late, but the light pollution from the surrounding neighborhoods still washed out the night sky. The wind was chilly, but off-brand whiskey empowered them to feel much of the cool night. If you didn’t include Virgil in that count, anyway.

“It’s cold,” Virgil whined, sliding his hands into his hoodie and burying himself in his hood.

“Have some more whiskey, hon,” Remy tried to pass the flask back but Virgil shook his head.

“No,” Virgil drawled whiningly. “I dun’ wanna puke. I wanna warm,”

“You wouldn’t puke if you didn’t swing around on the monkey bars like the floor was lava,” Remy laughed.

“Why come out to a playground if you don’t use it?” Virgil moped.

“To feel big and strong,” Remy shrugged.

“Virgil’s little and weak,” Remus laughed, poking Virgil in the side.

“Am not,” Virgil huffed, crossing his arms and sticking his tongue out at Remus. Remy rolled his eyes and took another swig.

“Then, to feel like a kid again,” Remy provided, shrugging once more.

“Oh!” Remus piped up suddenly. “Blanket fort,”

“I’m not ready to go back yet,” Virgil whined. “I’m always there,”

“No, no. Here. There’s all these poles and stuff,” Remus said, patting his hand on the playground under him. Virgil squeaked and shook his fists in delight.

“You’re a genius,” Remy hissed delightedly, wobbling as he pulled himself off his precarious position on the bars and back down to the playground. All three gentlefolk walked back to the house, talking animatedly about their plans for the castle blanket fort.

They returned to the dark playground with armfuls of blankets, speaking in hushed whispers as they rushed back up to it and threw the blankets on the floor of the raised playground. Remus started tying edges to blankets right away while Virgil buried himself in the blanket pile. Remy flopped down on top of him, causing both of them to laugh. Remy reached into the blanket pile and started tickling Virgil, who was trying his best to not giggle too loud as Remy assaulted him.

“Hh-Rem-stop-” Virgil sputtered between giggled and Remy relented, but still laid across the blanket pile and Virgil, now with a wind barricade tied up by Remus.

“Well, this works, too,” Remus laughed and flopped back on the blanket pile, using it as a pillow. Virgil laughed and tried to punch him, but his arm was stuck under the blankets and Remus’s weight. Remus felt him struggling under him and smirked. But Virgil suddenly froze.

“What’s-” Remus tried to start, but Virgil hissed.

“Shit, I just heard a car door, we gotta split! Somebody must have called the cops on us earlier,” Virgil hissed. “Come on, get off!” Virgil said, ruffling under all the blankets. Remus got up and quickly grabbed as much as he could carry while Remy yanked down the one on the bars. Virgil and Remy grabbed the remaining blankets, and they slid down the slide on their shoes, bolting off into the dark woods around the park, praying the cops don’t come to check for them in there.

They could see a flashlight checking the playground in the distance through the trees, retreating farther in with their blanket hoard until they could barely make out the light checking the grounds, trying desperately to stay out of sight. Virgil’s heart was in his throat and Remus pulled him and Remy in close behind a tree, wrapping his arms around them, watching sternly in the vague direction of the light.

Eventually, the barer of the flashlight turned around and walked away, and the trio breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“That… was fucking close,” Virgil whispered.

“No shit,” Remy hissed, pulling out his flask. “There was so much adrenaline pumping in my veins I’m almost sober,”

“Let’s get home and get back to drinkin’, then,” Remus said, letting the other two go. Remy took a swig and passed it to Virgil who took a shaky sip, passing it back to Remy who capped it while Virgil shook the fear off. “Let’s play truth or dare,” Remus said airily.

“Fuck, our boy got an adrenaline addiction,” Remy laughed quietly.

“Don’t judge my kinks,” Remus rolled his eyes. Virgil held up his finger and hissed at them, and the other two quieted down. The sound of a car engine nearby started up, and they listened to the car pull out and away until they couldn’t hear it anymore.

“Let’s get back before we break the cardinal rule,” Virgil whispered, starting his way out of the woods.

At the entrance to the woods, Virgil stuck out his arm before Remy and Remus could exit the treeline.

“Come on Virge, it’s cold,” Remy moaned.

“I’m small and in all black, just let me check real quick to make sure he’s not waiting on the street,” Virgil said, running out of the woods with light practiced feet,

Virgil came jogging back up a few minutes later with a thumbs up and they headed back to Virgil’s house quickly, praying to whoever was listening that the cops wouldn’t loop back around and catch them. 


	2. Just Kid Stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang plays with water balloons.

“Hey, Rem, guess what we bought at the grocery store,” Remus said, poking Remy in the side with a wild grin, tilting so far to the side his drink was in danger of spilling. 

“It better not be another eggplant,” Remy groaned, still sounding harrowed by the memories. 

“He did _try_ to get one again, but I stopped him,” Virgil said dreamily. “We got balloons for balloon animals,” Remy just stared at him in confusion. 

“Why- This better not be a _different_ and _more horrific_ eggplant kind of event, babe,” Remy drawled angrily. 

“No, no, Remus is banned from most of the cookware, I hid them. Especially the melon baller,” Virgil shook his head and chuckled slightly as Remus pouted dramatically. 

“We’re gonna fill ‘em with water and sacrifice ‘em,” Remus smiled and produced the bag of colorful balloons from his pocket. 

“We bought red food coloring for some of them so make it more gruesome,” Virgil smirked. 

“You guys are disgusting,” Remy rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. 

“You love us,” Remus smiled and squeezed Remy around the shoulders. “I’ll be fun, we just gotta get drunk enough to shut off that part of your brain that says it’s dumb,” 

“Isn’t that how we deal with _most_ of life’s problems?” Virgil laughed. Remy laughed, too, and clicked his plastic cup against Virgil’s. 

“Yeah, okay. I can at least enjoy getting a video of you two being massive dorks to make fun of,” Remy smiled. 

“Hey,” Virgil grumbled. “Let’s switch it up and play Most Likely. Everyone drinks on empty ties,” Virgil said, quickly forgetting he was ever offended in the first place. 

“Ream’s gonna get picked too much,” Remy rolled his eyes. 

“And he’s got the highest tolerance. It totally works out,” Virgil smirked. 

“Afraid of being _roasted_?” Remus cackled and leaned forward into Remy’s personal space. Remy shoved his face away and rolled his eyes again. 

“You act like I have any shame,” Remy said with a smirk. 

“Hey, great first one. Most likely to have shame?” Remus said. Both Remus and Remy pointed at Virgil. 

“You people say that like it’s a _bad thing_ ,” Virgil rolled his eyes and drank. “I at least have the good sense to keep my clothes on. Oh, who’s most likely to take their clothes off?” Virgil and Remy pointed to Remus and Remus smirked as he pointed to himself. 

“Thanks, V!” Remus grinned and took a drink. 

“Who’s the most likely argue with somebody in the produce aisle?” Remy smiled as Virgil and Remus pointed at him, but Remy pointed towards Virgil. 

“What makes you say that?” Remus laughed while Virgil looked confused. 

“Yeah, I’m scared of talking to people,” Virgil mumbled. 

“Not if you’re pissed off,” Remy shrugged. Virgil paused for a moment and considered it. 

“Okay, yeah, maybe, but I don’t know about most likely,” Virgil conceded and Remy drank with a small shrug. 

“Who cares? Most likely to yell at inanimate objects,” Remus postulated. Remy pointed at Virgil again but Virgil and Remus were both pointing at Remus. 

“Babe, you yelled at the kettle earlier this afternoon because it gave you a _frighten_ ,” Remy rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, yeah, I switch my answer then,” Remus laughed and Virgil drank with a small grunt mutiny. 

“Most likely to eat ice cream until they puke,” Virgil suggested and pointed to Remus. Remy considered it for a moment and joined Virgil in pointing at Remus while Remus pointed to Virgil. 

“I’m not likely to puke _at all_ , so it doesn’t work,” Remus crossed his arms. 

“Technicality, babe,” Remy said. “Take the drink,” Remus drank. 

“Most likely to get drunk first from this game,” Remy smiled. 

“Dude, that’s too _meta_ ,” Virgil groaned, but Remy and Remus both pointed at him while he rubbed his face. “What?” Virgil shot in confusion when he opened his eyes. 

“Large dogs are above your weight class, V,” Remus cackled and Virgil drank with a sour expression. “Most likely to forget underpants,” Remy and Virgil pointed to Remy before Remus’s finger can even move. Remy shrugged. 

“I go commando, like, 80% of the time. I’d forget if I intended to for sure. I’ve only got like 3 pairs of underwear,” Remy said and took a drink. 

“Remind me to take you shopping,” Remus said, looking a little pissed off. 

“Thanks, babe,” Remy winked. 

“Most likely to got lost in an IKEA,” Virgil said. All fingers were pointed at Remus, who drank happily, his disdain quickly tossed aside. 

“They turned the lights down while I was trying to figure out how to leave!” Remus grinned. 

“Shit, no kidding? I just assumed because things are shiny, I didn’t know that was a thing that happened!” Virgil laughed. 

“Most likely to jump out of a moving car,” Remy said, and all fingers were on Remus. 

“That’s actually how he got here a few days ago, Roman wouldn’t slow down,” Virgil laughed. Remy grunted but ended up laughing as well. 

“Most likely to hit on their own reflection,” Remus said. Remy drank right away, not even bothering to wait for them to point. 

— 

Virgil cackled maniacally as he held a water balloon giraffe above his head and Remus stabbed it, causing a tiny waterfall to cascade over Virgil. 

“I have been _anointed_ with the _blood of the innocent_ and can now _conquer the world_!” Virgil cheered triumphantly. 

“Yeah, kick their asses, babe!” Remy shot, drop-kicking a balloon poodle which exploded satisfactorily all over the concrete backyard porch. Remus bit the neck off of a horse balloon animal and getting soaked all over his neck and chest with tap water. 

“Brutal,” Remus laughed, picking up a balloon parrot from the little pile of animals they prepped and throwing it at Virgil, who laughed when it bounced off of him and burst on the patio instead. Remus picked up a balloon flower and quickly slit its stem, causing water to only drain from part of it. He stabbed the rest of the flower in quick succession, then handed off the knife to Virgil, who placed a balloon dog down on the patio and drove the knife into its non-existent heart with a maniacal grin to match Remus’s. Remy took the knife and stabbed a different balloon giraffe with a malicious giggle. 

Remy backed off when they got to the balloons with food dye in them, opting to fill some more balloons with regular water so he could keep playing with them without ruining his clothes. Remus grinned and placed a poodle on a bucket and pulled out his BB gun from the back of his jeans and shot it on the bucket top, the BB ricocheting off the bucket but bursting the balloon in a big red splash. 

“Bitch, that’s an option? Next!” Remy said, dropping the bag of balloons back on the patio and reaching out for the BB gun. Remus smiled and handed it over and Virgil placed a lopsided horse balloon on the bucket and backed off. Remy took aim and barked a laugh of pure evil joy as the red water splattered all over the grass in the yard. Virgil placed some kind of unknown animal from their earlier attempts on the bucket. 

“Me next!” Virgil said and climbed Remus, who laughed and put his arms out for footholds for the wet Virgil to climb him with. Virgil got on to his shoulders and climbed on the roof. “I’m gonna be a sniper,” Virgil hissed in delight as Remus passed up the BB gun and stepped under the overhang to get out of the danger zone. 

“Babe, _what the fuck are you_ -” Remy started and Virgil interrupted him when he shot, and the unknown balloon beast burst into a combination of mist and splash, the red water spreading farther this time. Virgil giggled and held the gun down to Remus, who put it in his back pocket and held open his arms for Virgil to jump down into. Virgil laughed as he leaped down, and Remus caught him with a small spin. Remus didn’t let go of Virgil and walked over to Remy, who drew the BB gun from his back pocket and placed a dye-filled parrot on the sacrificial bucket. Virgil cheered as he watched Remy decimate the Parrot, needing two shots for all the parts. 


	3. Let's Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy had a Bad Day™

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: signs of abuse

“Remy!” Both Virgil and Remus shouted excitedly as Remus checked the front door.

“Hey, babes,” Remy groaned as he stepped in. Remus nearly swept him up in a hug, but Remy held up his hands to stop Remus. “No, not today, hon,” Remy sighed, making his way to the couch.

“He didn’t,” Remus growled, glowering.

“Of course he did,” Remy grumbled as he flopped down on the couch.

“Are you okay, Rem?” Virgil looked sadly at Remy, not sure what to do.

“I’ll be fine. Can we just not talk about it?” Remy grunted, crossing his arms. He winced as the jacket slightly pinched on his shoulder.

“Hey, Virgil, how about you go get Rem an ice pack?” Remus said carefully, clearly holding something back. “We don’t gotta talk about it. But we can get you a shot of something decent and an ice pack,” Remus cracked his knuckles and clenched them tightly.

“That sounds great, thanks,” Remy sighed, shifting off his jacket. Remus’s knuckles turned white when he saw the marks. He left down the hall to get a blanket and a towel.

“You want it straight, Rem?” Virgil called from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Remy called back. Remus and Remy locked eyes quickly, both realizing Virgil wouldn’t react well to seeing any of the evidence. Virgil poured Remy a shot and came back out as Remus tossed a blanket over Remy. Remy shifted the blanket to cover the marks just before Virgil passed it over the back of the couch. Remy took the shot with his hand covered in a blanket and threw it back quickly. Virgil took the shot glass and handed Remus the ice pack. Remus wrapped it carefully with a towel and waited until Virgil left to put the shot glass in the kitchen to position it on the most painful looking one on his shoulder. Remy sighed and sat carefully, holding the pack on his shoulder just by leaning back.

“Thanks,” Remy hissed. “Let’s watch Gravity Falls. I still haven’t seen the last few episodes,” Remy said, trying to sound upbeat.

“Oh, they’re so good!” Virgil chirped as he came back into the living room. Remus went to grab the remote, switching it off the paused Mario Kart round to Remus’s Hulu. Virgil sat tentatively next to Remy on the couch, looking very sad and concerned.

“Don’t give me that look, hon. How about you just lie on my lap?” Remy offered. It was mostly unscathed and Remy wouldn’t have to look at Virgil’s sad face. It seemed like the perfect compromise. Remy wouldn’t mind some comforting non-painful contact, either.

“Okay,” Virgil nodded and shifted to lie down on the couch and put his head in Remy’s lap.

“Which episode did you see last?” Remus asked, pulling up the series.

“That dungeons and dragons one,” Remy provided and Remus clicked over to the next episode, starting it up.

“I’m gonna get us all some ice cream. You want those chocolate-covered coffee beans on it, Rem?” Remus asked, putting the remote next to Remy.

“You know it, babe,” Remy winked. Remus gave Remy a smile, but his eyes still looked set in fury mode. Remy sighed and watched the TV while Remus shuffled around in the kitchen, making them bowls of ice cream.

He came back out a few minutes later with a bowl of vanilla-fudge-coffee bean for Remy, chocolate with whipped cream and mini-chocolate chips for Virgil, and rocky road with potato chips for himself. Virgil sat up and took his bowl gratefully, eagerly eating his feelings. Remy put his loose jacket over his arm and pulled it out from under the blanket to use the spoon without Virgil seeing his arm. Remus sat back with his legs crossed, eating slowly and watching the show.

It was tense for a while, but things lightened up by the time they all finished their bowls. Virgil took them all back to the kitchen. Remus looked like he was going to say something when Remy pulled his arm back under the blanket but thankfully stayed quiet. Virgil came back after a moment of rinsing the shot glass and settled back down in Remy’s lap and they quietly went back to watching TV. Remus went to go get a blanket for Virgil as well, who was still looking downtrodden after lying back down.

By ‘Roadside Attraction’, they were all laughing much more freely and comfortably again. Virgil was happily balled up in a blanket and snuggling in Remy’s lap and Remus was taking up the bulk of the rest of the couch, as usual, snacking on a bag of chips. The whiskey and ice cream and ice pack together all helped Remy hurt much less, and it was much easier for him to just try to get past it happening. Remy didn’t like focusing on it.

When it started to hurt more again during ‘Weirdmageddon part 1’, Remus said nothing and got up to refresh the ice pack and get Remy another shot of whiskey. He could tell just by watching Remy’s expression as they watched TV. Remy was eternally grateful for them as he threw back another shot and Remus slid the refreshed ice pack in place. Remy didn’t think he could survive without these two idiots. And Bill Cipher being a prick was immensely enjoyable to watch. As long as he had these two, he knew he’d be okay. 


	4. The Birth of the Condom Stick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idiots desire a neat stick.

“No, Ream, _no,_ look at that _atrocity_!” Virgil said, pointing across the street to a pair of kids kicking at a stick on the ground after they got off the school bus.

“We’ve gotta do something,” Remus mumbled and crossed the street quickly. Virgil stuck behind him nervously.

“Uh, hi?” One of the kids said, picking up the stick.

“How much for the stick?” Remus asked seriously.

“You’re _kidding_ , right?” One of the boys asked.

“I _need_ it,” Remus insisted. “How much for the stick?”

“Uh, five bucks?” One of them said. Remus immediately took out his wallet and handed over five dollars.

“Deal, _suckers_!” The kid said, handing over the stick and ran off with the money.

“Man, this is an amazing stick, and they were kicking it like _monsters_ ,” Virgil muttered reverently, holding the stick.

“ _They’re_ the suckers, I easily would have paid them ten,” Remus laughed, and they began back down towards Virgil’s house.

“This is such a great fucking stick!” Virgil said, holding it in the air for the sunlight to reflect off of it. “It’s so sturdy, I could hit you with it and it won’t break,” Virgil said, slightly smacking it onto Remus. “The top’s kind of splintery, though,”

“Oh, I know how to solve _that_ ,” Remus chuckled. “It’s in my backpack, I’ll put it on once we get inside,”

“What is it?” Virgil asked curiously, unlocking his front door and letting them inside.

“Protection,” Remus smirked, setting down his back on the couch while Virgil held the stick upright. Remus dug around in his backpack and produced a condom.

“Dude, why do you have a _condom_ in your backpack?” Virgil asked, laughing but looking a little disgusted at it.

“For _protection_ , duh,” Remus said incredulously as he tore the wrapper and rolled a neon green condom on to the top of the stick. “Perfect,”

“It really _is_ ,” Virgil said, holding it aloft. “I dub thee the condom stick!” Virgil cried triumphantly and then smacked Remus on the head with it. Remus laughed and took the stick from Virgil and spun it around. “I’m glad we could save this stick from the fate of being broken. It will join us on our life journey of being garbage people who contribute nothing to society,”

“Verily and _indeed_ , Thadeus. Now let us ahead to the track and cause a ruckus, as is _tradition_ after academia,” Virgil said, trying to sound like a rich British guy from a cartoon.

“ _Rather_. Quite Quite. I shall place the ceremonial meat pouches in the rotating box, and they shall come out mysteriously boiling hot and frozen at the same time, a wonder of physics, indeed,” Remus also picked up the odd cartoon rich British accent.

“Mmm, _yes_ , quite, I believe the _witches_ are to blame,” Virgil said, adjusting a nonexistent monocle and nodding.

“Hmm, astute, Wilberforce, _indeed_ ,” Remus puffed a nonexistent pipe and squinted his eyes thoughtfully.


	5. A Cozy Night In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinking, Pizza, and dancing on the roof. You know, a regular fuckin' Tuesday.

“Babes, my dad just left, _get the fuckin’ tequila_ ,” Remy said into his phone as he quickly headed out the door and started jogging to Virgil’s house.

“Yes, I was _hoping_ he would!” Virgil hissed. “Do you like _pina coladas_?” Virgil sang.

“And getting _caught in the rain_!” Remy could hear on the other end of the line, muffled.

“That’s _rum_ , babe, I don’t think you even _have_ half a brain,” Remy chuckled.

“Wastin’ away _again_ in margaritaville!” Virgil amended his song choice.

“Searchin’ for my lost shaker of _salt_!” Remus barked more than sang in the background.

“Closer, but that song is _garbage._ I’ll be right over, mix me something strong, I have had a _week_!” Remy said emphatically.

“Mood,” Virgil said plainly and Remy hung up, picking up the pace to get to Virgil’s.

—

“ _Remy_!” Virgil and Remus cheered as Remy burst into the house.

“Booze me!” Remy slid into the kitchen and right into one of Remus’s signature bear hugs. Virgil was holding a cup out for Remy when he was released, feeling a little light-headed from Remus’s mauling. Remy slammed the drink with a satisfied smile despite the foul taste.

“I’ma order pizza, we ran out a few days ago. What do you want, Rem?” Remus asked, pulling out his phone.

“Breadsticks, cinnamon sticks, pizza sticks, garlic sticks. Every stick,” Remy supplied with a nod.

“I’ll get every stick ever, but what pizza do you want?” Remus laughed.

“Extra cheese, chicken, bacon, peppers, olives” Remy said after a moment of consideration.

“Hawaiian with bacon and sausage,” Virgil requested. “And lava cakes,” Virgil added, tilting his head.

“Are you _seriously_ going to spend like _seventy bucks_ on pizza?” Remy rolled his eyes.

“Not including _tip_! I know the family pizza login, it’s on my parents. I’m not even dipping into my allowance,” Remus smirked.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll get in _trouble_?” Remy asked incredulously.

“Who _cares_?” Remus rolled his eyes. “They’re shit at passwords, I’ll figure out the new one when they change it if they even notice,” Remus shrugged. “You can have leftovers to take home. We have once of those cool yeti lunch boxes and some ice packs, it’ll last 3 days under your bed and you can collapse it and sneak it back to school easily on Monday,” Remus explained his food plan for Remy.

“Thanks, babe,” Remy took a sip of his drink, trying to hide how touched he felt. But Remus smirked knowingly.

“Love you, too,” Remus blew Remy a kiss. Remy huffed and sat down on at the kitchen table.

“Ring of Fire?” Virgil offered, pulling a ridiculous plastic chalice out of a cabinet.

“Fuck yeah,” Remy said, holding up his drink.

“Oh, they have 7-up, we can make poor man’s marg’s,” Remus said, clicking around in the app.

“I forgot 7-up was a thing. I can’t remember when I last saw it,” Remy mused, pulling the deck of cards into a large circle in the middle of the table.

“Get some orange soda and coke, too, we can save money on grocery day,” Virgil said, placing the cup reverently in the middle of the ring of cards on the table.

“They have Dr. Pepper, not Coke,” Remus supplied. “Must be some brand deal,” Remus pursed his lips.

“Heathens,” Virgil hissed.

“Hey, I _like_ Dr. Pepper,” Remy shot, scowling at Virgil.

“It’s the _south_ , if you don’t have coke you die,” Virgil crossed his arms. “It’s rum and coke or jack and coke, not Dr. Pepper and anything,” Virgil said, huffing.

“Dr. Pepper’s pretty good with rum,” Remus shrugged. “It’s not like we have a choice,”

“True. Double the dessert sticks if we’re getting DP,” Virgil sat at the table with his drink. Remus wiggled his eyebrows at Virgil, and they broke out laughing.

“So what you’re saying is you need _double_ the _sticks_ for _DP_?” Remus grinned widely, lifting his eyebrow a few times.

“That is _exactly_ what I am implying, my good fellow,” Virgil wiggled his eyebrows right back at him.

“You guys are fucking _dorks_ ,” Remy rolled his eyes humorously. “Come on, order your pizza porn so we can play,” Virgil and Remus laughed at that, but Remus diligently clicked through the menus and made the order. He sat dramatically at the table and raised his cup. The other two joined him.

“Dear drinking gods, get us _real nice_ and _fucked up_ ,” Remus said solemnly.

“Pretty please,” Remy and Virgil chimed in right after him and they all bumped cups. Remy pulled out a jack from the pile.

“Drink every time somebody cusses,” Remy suggested right away.

“Oh, good one,” Remus smirked. He drew a 7 and shouted “Heaven!” Right away, and everyone pointed straight up. Remy was last and happily took a drink. Virgil drew a king and poured some of his drink into the chalice in the center. Remy drew a card.

“Two. Remus,” Remy supplied and Remus took a drink. Remus drew.

“Eight. Remy’s my mate,” Remus smiled.

“Aw, _babe_ ,” Remy cooed, fluttering his eyelashes at Remus.

“Only the best getting faced for you, sugar,” Remus blew Remy a kiss, and Virgil reached out to intercept it and ‘spiked it’ into the king’s cup with a satisfied smirk.

“Oh my god, somebody’s gotta drink Remus’s kiss, the stakes have _never been higher_!” Remy laughed while Virgil drew a card. He held up the 9 and faced them.

“Pizza,” Virgil smirked.

“Treatza. You know, from lunchables?” Remy provided.

“Nice,” Virgil nodded, impressed.

“Podgorica,” Remus smiled smugly.

“What?” Remy and Virgil looked to Remus in confusion.

“It’s the capital of Montenegro,” Remus smirked. “I knew you’d pull this shit after we banned orange,”

“ _Shit_ ,” Virgil drank.

“Cussing!” Remy shouted and everybody took a drink, Virgil taking a second one

—

“I went inside to pee for like _three minutes_ , you fuckheads, how are you _already_ on the roof?” Remy laughed, looking up to Virgil and Remus playing pattycake on the roof.

“We’re _spry_ ,” Virgil offered and Remus stopped, shifting to a stable angle in the roof and holding down his arms. Remy held up his arms and Remus pulled him up, swatting his butt as he clambered up on to the roof.

“ _Remy_ ,” Virgil cheerily drawled and held open his arms, pulling Remy in for a long hug. “I _missed_ you,” He slurred.

“It was _harrowing_ , I’m sure, being away from my shimmering presence,” Remy rolled his eyes. “Let’s put on a jam,” Remy said, pulling out his phone from under Virgil’s arms wrapped around him. Remy put on some music he liked and slid it back in the front pocket of his jeans, the speaker end up. “It’s kinda hot out for clingin’ on to me like this, babe,” Remy said.

“ _Way_ ahead of you!” Remus peeled off his shirt and threw it down to the patio.

“You freakin’ _nudist_ ,” Virgil rolled his eyes and let Remy go. Then Remy yanked off his shirt and threw it over Virgil’s head to Remus, who smacked it down to the patio before it hit the roof. Remy and Remus stared at Virgil expectantly. Virgil dramatically rolled his eyes and dropped his shoulders, giving in and throwing his shirt at Remus who spiked it down on top of his.

Remy stood up carefully and climbed up to the peak of the roof, standing on either side of the pitch and dancing to the music from his pocket.

“Did you pick dark psytrance just for me, you flirt?” Virgil laughed, crawling up to sit on the pitch and danced along with him while staying seated.

“I picked it for _me_ , but you can listen,” Remy winked and gyrated to the beat. Virgil blushed wildly and Remus laughed, joining them at the top of the roof and dancing with his friends.

—

“Virgil, every time you pick the movie you pick _absolute garbage_ ,” Remy groaned, leaning back on the couch while Virgil typed in his choice.

“I’m down for _anything_ titled ‘Legend of the Ooze’,” Remus laughed.

“Oh, _god_ , those creepy turtle suits from the 90s?” Remy drawled as Virgil leaned back into him to cuddle.

“I watched the other one where they go back in time to feudal Japan and honestly after a bit you don’t notice the creepy suits, I swear. Otherwise I wouldn’t watch it, either,” Virgil defended his choice.

“What in _the world_ are mutant turtles doing in feudal japan?” Remy rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around Virgil. Remus came back with a bowl of popcorn and scooted the table closer to put it down.

“ _Move_ , fuckers,” Remus said and Remy shifted so that Remus could sit down, pulling the both of them into his arms.

“Um, I don’t remember. I had pretty bad insomnia when I rented it. They flew kites. And the samurai that came to 90s New York played hockey with Casey Jones,” Virgil offered with a little shrug.

“That sounds pretty _killer_ , honestly,” Remus chuckled. “I wanna play hockey with Casey Jones and 17th-century swordsman,” Remus raised his eyebrows and nodded like it impressed him.

“Okay, _yeah_ , I’d watch that,” Remy conceded.

“Move a ‘lil, lemme shift my leg,” Remus grunted.

“Just lay back and we’ll both lay on you, we’ll fit,” Remy laughed.

“Double drunk hugs? Deal,” Remus smiled, leaning back against the couch arm. Remy laid against the back of the couch and Virgil tucked himself under Remy’s arm, holding the popcorn bowl so everyone can reach it. They watched in silence for a little while, other than occasional drunken giggles at the TV and the sounds of munching popcorn.

“Okay, I just realized the suits don’t creep me out anymore. You’re right,” Remy admitted.

“Told you. Is it just me or is Casey Jones kind of _weirdly cute_ when he’s decked out for sports murder?” Virgil laughed as he asked.

“I think you’re just _kinky_ , V,” Remy laughed and grabbed a handful of popcorn.

“I don’t wanna _fuck_ him, I just wanna watch him do sports murder,” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“I think I’d be willing to watch _anybody_ sports murder ninjas, it's badass,” Remus added, sounding very interested.

“So _Remus_ is the kinky one,” Remy chuckled.

“I don’t think _anybody_ ever questioned that,” Virgil munched on a handful of popcorn.

“If I’m being roasted, I’m throwing both of you in the neighbor’s pool,” Remus sang cheerily.

“We’re not _roasting_ you, Ream, we’re just agreeing that your cyptid kink is probably kinkier than Casey Jones,” Virgil said. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s fair,” Remus laughed. “The character exemplifies the sports murder kink, but _nothing is_ kinkier than slenderman porn,”

—

“Hey, V, wake up,” Remy shook Virgil gently. “ _You_ picked the movie, and you slept through the ending!”

“I was _warm_ ,” Virgil grumbled, shifting off of Remus and sitting on the floor with a wide yawn. “Time to go?” Virgil asked sadly.

“Yeah, time to go. If dad goes out this weekend I’ll come over, hon,” Remy said consolingly, though Remy was probably more bitter about leaving than anyone else.

“ _Okay_ ,” Virgil grumbled, getting up and hugging Remy tightly after he crawled off the couch.

“Babe, we’ve been cuddling for like _two hours_ ,” Remy rolled his eyes as he reached up to hug Virgil back.

“I wasn’t awake for all of it. Lemme say goodbye, you ass,” Virgil grumbled into his chest. Remy chuckled and pat the top of Virgil’s head before Remus enveloped the both of them in his arms.

“We’ll miss you bud. Text us anything you want from the store,” Remus said softly. “Let’s get your pizza lunch box packed before you go,” He smiled and motioned with his head towards the kitchen.

“Oh, shit, _yes_ , pizza for breakfast,” Remy hissed as Remus let go and all three headed to the kitchen. 


	6. Coping's a Bitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get drunk and play with fire.

Virgil threw back another shot of shitty whiskey and stared out the window. The window in the kitchen was small and had little curtains despite only facing a blank and aged fence. It didn’t get that much light in the day, and at night it was strangely depressing to see the kitchen light reflecting off of the fence in the dark. Remy and Remus clinked shot glasses and also threw back a shot of whiskey.

“Y’all ev’r wonder what happened to our youthful optimism and hope and stuff?” Virgil slurred slightly and leaned forward to put his head down on the table, facing outward towards his friends with his chin on his arms.

“I’m pretty certain we drink to avoid thinking about that shit, babe,” Remy rolled his eyes and groaned.

“I think we _know_ what happened,” Remus huffed and leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“Okay, well, where do you think dreams go to _die_ , then? Is there a heaven for half-formed hopes and longing desire?” Virgil tilted his head and eyeballed the bottle of whiskey, thinking about another shot.

“Virge, hon, _what the fuck_ are you talking about?” Remy leaned on his arm against the table and poured out himself another shot of whiskey into his shot glass.

“I’m just saying _if dreams die_ where do they _go_?” Virgil shrugged slightly.

“You’re an _idiot_ ,” Remy flipped his hand at Virgil. “It’s a _phrase_ or whatever,”

“Maybe they need a funeral,” Virgil said absentmindedly.

“Viking funeral,” Remus nodded. “ _Burn ‘em_ ,”

“ _Ooh_ ,” Virgil and Remy both said at the same time and perked up with interest at the idea.

“We don’t have a boat though,” Virgil sat up. Remus looked around the kitchen and his eyes landed on an empty box of soda cans.

“We have a submarine,” Remus pointed at the thin cardboard box on the floor.

“That works,” Virgil shrugged. “I’ll go get paper and pencils,” He said, wobbling a little when he got up. Virgil left the kitchen off to hunt down writing supplies.

Virgil came back with some plain notebook paper and a few coloring pencils and dumped them on the kitchen table. The pencils rolled around and Remus caught a red one before it rolled off the table and tore off a strip of the notebook paper and then tore it again into pieces. Remy got up to grab the empty box and put it in the middle of the table, then sat back down. Virgil tore the remaining page in half and passed part off to Remy before tearing his paper piece up into uneven shapes. Remus crumbled it and dunked it into the open can dispenser hole in the box.

“I’m also burning people,” Virgil grumbled, writing on one piece and wadded it up, also chucking it in the box. “I hope they feel it,” Virgil hissed and poured another shot of whiskey.

“ _Metal_ ,” Remus nodded and threw up the horns, writing on his third slip and squeezing it in his palm to crunch it up.

“These are _private_ , right?” Virgil paused before writing on his last slip of paper.

“Yeah,” Remy nodded, his hand covering what he was writing. “S’only reasonable,” Remy scrunched up the paper and tossed it in the box and threw back another shot of whiskey. Virgil covered his slip as he was writing and poured himself another shot as he dropped it in the box.

“So, like, we can't send these off to sea or whatever,” Virgil mumbled and reached out to shred up some more paper.

“Driveway is like a dry canal,” Remus shrugged and poured himself another shot as well.

“Then let’s burn ‘em on the fuckin’ driveway,” Remy cheered, holding aloft his shot glass.

“Woo!” Remus and Virgil cheered, also holding up their shot glasses, splashing some whiskey on the box on the table. They froze and laughed after that.

“Eh, it’s an accelerant,” Remus said dismissively. They crumbled up a few more abandoned hopes and dreams into the box before they took it outside to the empty front driveway. Remy brought a shot glass of whiskey along with him.

Virgil placed the box down in the middle of the driveway with a little flourish. Remy poured out the shot glass of whiskey on top of the box and Remus squatted down to set the box ablaze with metal butane lighter he produced from his pocket. The trio cheered when the flames finally took, and the box started to burn. The top burned up quickly and bits of paper setting alight floated up from the inside of the box as they dissipated into nothing.

“Ooh, neat,” Remus whistled and Virgil pulled out his phone to take a photo. “Look at ‘em go,” Their eyes followed a piece of paper that drifted up from the pile.

“Nice to not have to worry about those anymore,” Remy crossed his arms and leaned against Remus.

“You think I can do an _ollie_ over this fucker?” Virgil said after a pause.

“You’re _drunk_ ,” Remy hissed, rolling his eyes.

“I’m not hearing a ‘ _no_ ’, though,” Virgil smirked and ran over to the garage to pull out his skateboard.

“Fuck it _up_ , V!” Remus cheered. 


	7. That's the Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil wished he could appreciate his freedom like he's supposed to, but he has to distract himself from the loud loneliness instead.

Virgil hated the days Remus didn’t stay over. This stupid house was too empty without Remus’s loud presence. Virgil shouted out in anger as he tossed his backpack on the ottoman just to listen to the echo. Virgil picked up the remote and turned on the TV, picking the first thing on his recently played to listen to while he nuked himself lunch. Well, if you could consider anything eaten after his lunch at 3 PM.

He liked the noise, just leaving the TV on. It was a habit now, anyway. He wouldn’t even consider playing a game on the TV without Remus, honestly. It felt wrong. But having the TV on seemed right. Virgil sat on the kitchen counter and watched TV through the pass-through while he ate ‘lunch’, which was a microwave meal of biryani chicken. He finished and leaned over to rinse the container and the fork in the sink and left them to dry and climbed up the small backsplash over the sink to jump down into the living room.

Leaving the door wide open to listen to the TV, he went into the small office just off the living room. His parents used the desktop in here. Well, they did a long time ago. Virgil had just taken over the computer. It was clear they didn’t care about this workstation, just as much as they didn’t care about Virgil. He kicked off his shoes near the door and sat down at the desk, using his toe to turn on the desktop while he leaned back. He waited for it to boot. It was an older computer and took a bit. He chewed on his lip nervously.

The TV wasn’t enough today, it seemed. It was still just so… empty. Virgil was freezing and lonely and sad. Sadder then he had any right to be. Nothing was wrong. It’s not like his parents were hitting or yelling at him anymore. There was food in the fridge and alcohol on the shelf. They paid for the water and electricity. Nothing was _actually_ a problem in his life. He had no right to feel this way.

People always mentioned how they were jealous of him if he complained to anyone. They wished they were home alone. They wished they had the run of the house. They wished they got to pick the groceries. So Virgil knew he was wrong to hate it desperately. Everyone always told him that he was living the dream. It was stupid to hate it, right? It was stupid to be sad about it. His feelings about it were stupid. The empty house was the dream.

It was so killer his parents bought him alcohol. He was so lucky that they didn’t care what he did or watch his grades or have discussions with him. How cool was it that no matter what Virgil did they’d never bother to reprimand him? He was just a _whiner_. He didn’t understand how good he had it. He didn’t understand how _bad_ it was for other kids. Virgil groaned and dropped his head hard on the oak desk and the monitor creaked in protest. He tiredly reached up without looking and entered the password to log in.

Time to pretend he wasn’t here all alone all evening! Virgil loaded up his favourite websites. Some art ones, _YouTube_ , a crypid blog, _Reddit_ , general places he could interact with people. Nothing really. Very few notifications. No new comments on his art. The _Reddit_ didn’t have much to comment on. The blog hadn’t updated, even his _Discord_ was dead. Remus was busy, probably, and Remy’s dad was maybe home, so Remy had to pretend to do his homework. And actually do homework, probably. Virgil gave up on homework ages ago, though. He wrote it down. He had the pages right there. He never bothered to do it. There was no point.

Trying an MMO could help. Hop in on some raids and chat with them. It didn’t happen every time, but sometimes spamming an instance with the same group would cause a little bit of temporary bonding, and he did really want a rare weapon drop from a raid instance he just leveled into. The damn game needed updating, so Virgil took a piece of paper and just mindlessly sketched the character on the loading splash in a new pose. He kind of liked her dress and thought her hair was pretty. Virgil glanced at his phone’s lack of notifications with a sigh and kept drawing during this stupid long update.

It was so painfully quiet in here it hurt, even with the TV on. There was still at least another half hour on the downloader and Virgil abandoned the sketch, completely unable to focus. He wandered the house pointlessly. He checked all the locks on the windows again, except his parent’s room since he couldn’t stomach going in there. Nothing had changed. Nothing had a reason to. It was just him and this stupid giant silent house. He couldn’t take the silence ringing in his hears. He groaned and started singing loudly, listening to it echo off the walls as he walked through the house.

‘ _Friends on the Other Side_ ’ might not have been the best choice, because now the shadows in his house were getting suspicious. He flipped on all the house just to get rid of them. Virgil couldn’t stop pacing madly and gripping himself, so he went into the kitchen to nuke a mug of milk to make some shit hot cocoa from powder. He needed something. Virgil climbed up on the counter and just listened to the microwave’s hum while some terrible sitcom played in the background. He rubbed his face in frustration. It was dumb! It was dumb! He was lucky! Virgil yelled in frustration again. The microwave finally beeped and Virgil mixed in his cocoa packet.

Virgil dropped off his mug in the living room and grabbed his sketchbook and a CD from his bedroom. He loaded a CD into the stereo and set it low, then picked a TV show he actually liked for him to watch. He sketched one of his OCs while the TV and stereo played. It almost wasn’t so empty in here with the stereo going. Virgil sketched himself playing chees with another character next.

He had to get up and change the CDs twice until he was finally hungry enough to consider dinner. Virgil got up and dug around in the freezer for another microwave dinner, chucking a random one in the appliance without really looking at what it was. He didn’t really care. Virgil ate it while leaned against the kitchen counter and watched the TV. It was still ice cold in the center, but it wasn’t inedible. He just had to chew harder. Virgil rinsed stuff and returned went to go finally play his damn game. It finished loading ages ago, but it took so long he got distracted trying to distract himself.

Grinding the raid wasn’t the worst thing. Virgil was getting good levels and caught on quick, guiding people who didn’t run to the first task right away as he played. He did eventually find a group that was also grinding it as he was randomly placed with groups. It took six instances for them to start jumping in boredom while they waiting for the boss to spawn. It took another four and they were finally chatting in the two or three minutes of downtime in each raid instance. He even already got the sword he wanted and kept playing. They were nice enough and the levels were good. It was almost like being with other people. They were talking about books, which was a bonus.

Remus finally messaged the group chat with one of his gore-or memes, and Virgil sighed in relief. It was stupid, but it felt like Remus forgot about him for a bit. Virgil pestered Remus to come online and play with him, but Remus said he was stuck at one of his parent’s stupid events where he had to pretend he wasn’t hallucinating and stay quiet. Remus technically wasn’t even supposed to be texting, but he had been sneaking it under the table when he had a chance. Virgil didn’t know why they forced Remus to be at these things if they barely tolerated him in the first place. Appearances were just too important to them, and that included pretending they didn’t openly hate Remus it seemed. Virgil wished he could light one of his mom’s stupid gauzy dresses on fire with her in it. He grumbled, but the new raid had loaded and he continued grinding with his group.

The others seemed to enjoy talking too since all the items they were all trying to grind for were achieved and they kept playing. Virgil had a nearly complete set of the rare armor drop from this raid. He didn’t even care for it, it wasn’t worth much to sell and was barely better than his current gear, but they had gotten into a debate on the motivations behind the events of the Divergent series and Virgil wasn’t going to stop.

Eventually, everyone else had to leave. Virgil put up all the spare armor up for bid and equip everything. The set bonus was admittedly nice. He quested alone for a bit, now that he was significantly over-leveled for many of them he breezed through the quests in the area and moved on. But that tingling started back up in the back of his head eventually. The one that let him know he was alone and that none of the conversations was real. They didn’t even friend request him at the end. It was late enough that most of his guild wasn’t online. The hardcore players were doing PVP and not talking. Virgil sighed and found an inn to get a resting bonus at to sign out. It was already past midnight and he couldn’t even pretend he was tired.

Virgil knew this was dumb. He knew it was dangerous. He knew he shouldn’t do this. But he slipped back on his shoes and grabbed his keys, heading out the front door. The evening air was warm and nice, outside. It was a little overcast, but he could make out a few stars in the night sky. He wished he could see more. He loved the stars. Looking at them always made him feel better. The stars were always there, they could never leave him.

He slid his hands in his pockets and kicked a rock along with him as he headed down the street until it jumped off the curb. He watched it for a moment and moved on. Not being in the house anymore, where he was stuck all the time, helped. He hated being there. He hated the sound of the A/C and the smell of the couch. It was dumb. He was supposed to appreciate this. Why couldn’t he appreciate this? Virgil flipped up his hood and headed towards the park. He didn’t really have anywhere else to go.

He kicked his legs under him and swung higher on the swing set. The set creaked slightly in the night, but otherwise, it wasn’t obvious anyone was out here. Virgil watched the stars close in and recede as he swung. Staring at him gave his head a fuzzy feeling he could describe, but it was both uncomfortable and comforting. He couldn’t think about how bad he was at appreciating things or how much he missed Remus and Remy. The fuzzy feeling just overtook his brain and he embraced it. Virgil gripped the chain and swung as high as he could without the chain clattering loudly, enjoying the fresh smell and the different sights for once.

Virgil must have stopped paying attention at one point because when he realized what was happening he was sitting on the swing completely still while he watched the scattered clouds as they passed overhead. Virgil rubbed his face and pulled out his phone. The light on his screen blinded him momentarily and he hissed at it, rubbing his eyes. When he reopened them the screen had dimmed down. Shit, he had been out here for ages. Virgil slid his phone back into his pocket and hopped off the swing to head back home. He shouldn’t be out this late.

“I’m home,” Virgil called pointlessly to the empty house as he entered. He locked up the front door and slid the bar under the door handle. Virgil picked up his mug from the living room to rinse out as he got a glass of water. Virgil sighed as he leaned against the fridge and sipped his cup of water, staring at the clock. He should probably get to bed sometime soon. Virgil went to go shower and change for bed.

He left his clothes for tomorrow folded on the bathroom counter to change into quickly and headed into his bedroom after turning off all the lights he left on in the house. There was no point in closing his bedroom door, but the dark hall always scared him, even though he never admitted it to anybody. His brain played tricks on him with the shadows in the hall and he saw things. It was easier on his psyche to close the door.

Virgil crawled up into bed and laid down, pulling out his phone. It was time to space out to social media. His brain was still kind of fuzzy from earlier and the walk must have helped tire him because he was exhausted even though he barely did anything once he got home from school. Not that he did much at school either. Remus wasn’t here last night either and he had trouble sleeping, so he was too tired today for much. Virgil glanced around his dark bedroom, making sure everything was in place.

His eyes caught on the small locked box on his desk and sighed. Remus would kill him if he found out he did it again. Virgil was bad at keeping on his hoodie when he got drunk, so Remus would find out one way or another. He had grown out of it, he told himself. He wasn’t that weak anymore. He didn’t have to depend on it anymore. Remus came over often now and it made all the empty, silent nights easier. But Virgil still couldn’t throw out the box. And on nights like this sometimes it played at him. Just in passing. He didn’t think he would. He wouldn’t even touch the box tonight, though sometimes he did. Sometimes just holding the box was enough. He didn’t need to tonight. But it was still there. It was an option he kept open.

Virgil pulled his eyes back to his phone and appreciated the fact that the cyptid and conspiracy theory boards were finally alive and he talked with them, sending interesting theories to the group chat. Remy always claimed he hated getting them and that Virgil sent them too late, but Remy was the one reading and responding to them. Remy always called them dumb, but Virgil appreciated that even if he _really_ thought they were dumb he took the time to read things Virgil was interested in. It made him feel better, and he needed that tonight. Because tonight the silent house and the lack of a single soul nearby that cared if he lived or died were both too loud to deal with. 


	8. Seventeen Tracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aggressively supporting each other, conspiracy theories, & German compound words.

“I mean… we’re out of everything else,” Remy mumbled, looking at the alcohol cabinet.

“Maybe we could… _not_ drink?” Virgil asked but within seconds all three of them broke out cackling violently doubling over with laughter. Virgil wiped away a tear from his eye after they settled down and sighed. “Yeah, no. But it tastes like burning death,” Virgil said, picking up the bottle of _Goldschläger_. “Also, it’s not the cheap shit,” He mumbled. “I don’t think we’re _supposed_ to,” He added warily.

“Eh, that thing has been untouched for two years. Someone probably bought it because _gold_ and then realized it tasted like the embodiment of pure hatred,” Remus rolled his eyes and took the bottle out of Virgil’s hands and shook it up, watching the gold flakes drift about.

“What if we just cover it up? Like with the shit we normally drink,” Remy mused, also eying the gold flakes swirling path in the bottle.

“We _tried_ covering that with soda and stuff,” Virgil grunted, looking at it with disgust.

“So we need to go stronger,” Remy shrugged, taking the bottle from Remus and sniffing it. Remy flinched back and grimaced, capping it right away. “I don’t think coffee is enough.”

“Hot cocoa coffee? Like, with a squeeze of chocolate syrup for good measure?” Virgil suggested.

“I mean, we can try. I’ll make a fresh pot,” Remy offered and handed off the bottle, heading over to the coffeemaker and starting another brew. Virgil put the bottle on the table and went over to the stove to make hot cocoa the right way. He wasn’t sure garbage nukerowave cocoa would cut it. Remus gathered various ingredients and mugs, doing a drizzle of chocolate on the ledges and even pulling out some canned whipped cream.

Remy splashed some Goldschläger in the mocha and took a tentative sip. He tilted his head, blinked, and nodded.

“That’s actually… good?” Remy said. “How?” Remy looked at the mug incredulously and poured in a solid shot or two in each mug. Remus topped them all with whipped cream and the took probationary sips while Remy took a proper swig. Remus had a slow-spreading grin and Virgil looked in awe as they both processed it.

“This is the only valid use of _Goldschläger_ ,” Virgil nodded sagely. “What’dya wanna do while we kill a few mugs of this?” Virgil asked, sipping again happily.

“Hm… You wanna play _Saints Row_ , Rem? I swear the fourth one is worth it,” Remus said temptingly.

“It’s such a ridiculous premise, though,” Remy rolled his eyes.

“Who cares? It’s fun!” Remus beamed. “I want to see what you’ll do,” He prodded Remy foreword. “Me and V can touch up our nail polish for a bit while we watch,” Remus started pushing Remy out of the kitchen into the living room.

“Oh, I do have some bad chips I want to fix,” Virgil murmured, following behind right away.

Remus set up Remy on the TV without any further confirmation that he wanted to play. Remy huffed but he sat down with his mug and took the controller, anyway. Virgil dropped off his cup and headed to his room to grab the nail polish supplies.

“Will you do the character creator for me? I’m awful with that shit,” Remy groaned in annoynce, taking a sip of his alcoholic loveliness.

“Sure,” Remus shrugged, flopping back on the couch happily. Mugs on the table clattered he landed down on the couch so hard.

“Babe,” Remy huffed shortly and Remus just cackled brightly. Virgil came back from his room with the rattling plastic bin of nail polish a moment later and plopped the box next to Remus, sitting down next to him. Virgil pulled out the matching shades for his nails to start patching the chips instead of re-painting the whole nail. Remus picked random colors to patch his chips with.

“Ream, it’s going to be weird and the nail polish won’t sit right if you mix formulas like that,” Virgil scoffed.

“It’s going to be like a patchwork thing, it’ll rock,” Remus said confidently. “If it chips, it chips,” He nodded and picked up an acid green to patch a black nail. Virgil considered him and the idea for a moment, then his eyes widened and he dug through the bin for purple and blue and a bright white.

“I’m going to do like a stitched on patch thing,” Virgil hissed in delight, looking under bottles for a fine liner brush.

“Here y’go, Ream,” Remy handed over the controller to Remus on the character creator and Remus took it and started adjusting sliders right away. “I wanna be a boyfriend who looks like a girlfriend,” Remy nodded hopefully. Remus focused in on the character creator after a quick nod and started working.

“Breakin’ my back just to know _your name_!” Virgil started singing right away.

“Seventeen tracks and I’ve had it _with this game_!” Remy fired back, continuing the song. They sang along with each other while Remus stuck his tongue out and adjusted things carefully, switching through categories back and forth, and trying to create the right character for Remy. Remus gave the character a more feminine version of Remy’s face but went completely off with everything else. Remus finished just after they sang the last line of the song as if that was his goal all along. He tossed the controller back to Remy and facetiously wiped his forehead.

“Thanks!” Remy chimed. “It’s freakin’ perfect, thank you!” Remy enthused and started the game. Virgil laughed when Remy actually considered the choices down the hall and took a drink before focusing in on painting his nails.

Remy screamed out in frustration when the intro finished and he was tossed into the meat of the game, pissed that the game made him think for no reason, but seemed to be enjoying himself as he played. Remus was leaned back, sipping his drink lazily while he patched up his own nails. Virgil was completely curled in to get a close look at his nails and chewing on his tongue while he worked, sometimes taking hearty swigs of his drink.

After another few mugs of drinks and the whole pot of coffee, Remy getting way too into the game and rage quitting when he couldn’t beat a mission right away, and Virgil and Remus having finished their nails, they had shifted about. Remus was now playing _Let's Dance_ alone while Virgil was balled up in Remy’s lap, holding him tight while Remy smiled drunkenly at Remus still managing to dance perfectly despite all the alcohol in his system.

“No, but, see, if the guys that played this game, they said that they had like _hallucinations_ and _night terrors_ and shit! And people reported seeing guys in black suits coming to the arcade cabinets. Some people theorized that they were collecting data or putting subliminal messages in the game! And it was all completely out of hand the way this whole urban legend came about! But it turns out the whole thing was just a weird combination of circumstances!” Virgil rambled on about an urban legend, holding out his hands and gesticulating as if he were trying to squeeze some truth out of his own words. Remy rolled his eyes and held Virgil happily, enjoying the contact despite Virgil’s completely inane drunken tangent about the legend they were messaging about last night.

Virgil had been over most of this already on their group _Discord_ , but Remy was happy to listen to Virgil rant about it in real life. Remy understood that sometimes it doesn’t really feel like you’ve gotten it off your chest until you said it out loud, too. He’d ranted at Virgil in a similar fashion about some of the people he met at parties and the stupid shit they did. He also just liked it when Virgil was animated and happy. Virgil paused to cheer at Remus’s new high score along with Remy before continuing on about the strange circumstances that lead to the Polybius urban legend.

“And it was _actually_ that the FBI was investigating illegal _gambling_ operations…. Wait, shit, I’m sorry,” Virgil's eyes widened and he trailed off. He leaned against Remy and his expression became dour instead of animated. “It’s stupid,” He murmured.

“No, go off, babe. I want to hear it. It’s not stupid,” Remy said reassuringly. Virgil did this often. They all had been shut down a lot and Remy and Remus were both familiar with the sting.

“What was the name of the fake game’s producer?” Remus prodded him.

“Oh! Okay, so, this is cool. It’s this made-up German word, Sinneslöschen. It means sensory deprivation and whoever came up with the fake company must have had like a flash of genius coming up with it! They were really leaning into the psychoactive effects thing. Like, it isn’t actually a word or anything, but there are those cool German combo words and it really plays into that whole vibe of like ‘interesting, but not interesting enough to bother double-check’ kind of thing that really helps urban legends stay afloat, you know?” Virgil continued rambling on happily.

“I like griefbacon,” Remus chimed in.

“Of course _you_ would. Oh, I know the one that Remy would like!” Virgil beamed up to Remy.

“What’s that?” Remy smiled down at him and rubbed Virgil’s back absentmindedly.

“Okay, it’s a long one, so, uh, I’ll try to go slow. It’s backpfeifengesicht,” Virgil tried his best to enunciate amongst his drunken rambling.

“What the hell is it supposed to mean?” Remy furrowed his eyebrows.

“It’s what you would call a face that you would like to slap. It literally translates to a slap face. It’s kind of a rare one, but it’s like, _so_ perfect for you,” Virgil smiled snarkily at Remy.

“It was _one_ time!” Remy objected.

“Yuh-huh,” Virgil and Remus both deadpanned sarcastically.

“Yeah, okay, I fucking love it and I can’t wait to drop it on the next person I need to fucking slap at a party,” Remy cackled. “The face alone will be worth it."

“Kick his ass, baby, I got yo’ flower,” Remus grinned, starting up another song. Virgil snuggled closer to Remy, nestling into the warmth.

“Jesus, V, your fingers are _freezing_ , watch where you put those!” Remy objected as Virgil slid under his shirt.

“I’m a warmth vampire and you can’t defeat me,” Virgil mumbled, burying his head under Remy’s jacket. Remy rolled his eyes and shook his head affectionately, wrapping his arms around Virgil who seemed to be attempting to graft himself to Remy’s side.


	9. Nothing Happens to Virgil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of a certain house party from a very drunk individual's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: implied attempted non-con in this chapter also much drunk

Virgil had a complicated relationship with house parties. He hated people and hated being around people. But there was some sad, pitiful part of him that wanted to be accepted by people. He wanted to be liked and to fit in and not always be the odd one out. So when Remy wanted to go to one, probably because there was also an enormous part of him that just wanted to fit in for once, Virgil pre-gamed. And he pre-gamed hard. Virgil wouldn’t touch the alcohol at a party. Remus got him a flask and he drank his own alcohol. Today was trash whiskey. Warm & straight, which is not an ideal way to drink trash whiskey.

He still wore the nail polish to check Remus and Remy’s drinks, which they both appreciated, even if Virgil hounded them about it often. Remus seemed to like this party stuff. He usually fell into the role of party bouncer, and people liked having him around for that. He wished people could see how cool Remus was in the daytime, but at least he tended to get along with people at these things. Virgil rarely did. Remus was off talking about his guerrilla art installation with a group of girls who were curious about all the crochet around town. Remy was playing spin the bottle. Virgil was interested in playing, but he wasn’t kissing-strangers drunk. He wasn’t actually sure if he could _get_ kissing-strangers drunk because he was pretty fucking faced at this point. He did try, though.

Virgil leaned against the wall, because without the wall he wasn’t sure he could stand up straight and hitting is room-temperature garbage whiskey watching them play spin the bottle. He was getting a little dizzy and probably needed to dial it back. Virgil twisted back on the small cap and slid it in his hoodie pocket. He never trusted it in his back pocket while drunk. People could twist off the cap and do something.

“Hey,” a very, very tall guy who was suddenly standing next to him said. Where did he come from and how is the tall so a thing?

“You… are a mountain of a tall. I wanna climb you, I bet I can see the whole party up there,” Virgil said brightly. “Where did you come from Mr. Mountain-tall man?”

“I’ve just been floating around. I saw you at a party last week with that big guy. You were wall-flowering with him like you are now,” He said smoothly, leaning back into the wall and sliding his hands into his jeans pockets.

“Yeah, he’s talking about his art stuff with some girls… Why? You better not be here to _insult_ him I’ll have you know-” Virgil held up his finger and rambled at him.

“Woah, _woah_ , tiny thunder, I didn’t say anything. So you’re here alone?” He asked casually and sipped his drink.

“Fer now, yeah. You know who I really wanna climb? Bigfoot. That bitch is ta~all,” Virgil drawled and lolled his head back on the wall, he was feeling a little sick. He needed food. Remy said something about pancakes earlier and they were all he could think about food-wise. He was pretty certain there were chips in the other room but _wall_. Virgil rolled his head against it because it felt good.

“So, you like tall guys?” He asked lazily, staring at Virgil while he rolled his head against the wall.

“Do you _see_ me? Everyone is tall. And I’m not gay,” Virgil growled and smacked his head against the wall trying to stand up straight, but he possibly was no longer capable. He needed water maybe but he finished his bottle of water and didn’t feel like refilling it. He’d have to hunt down a filter and yuck. Effort.

“You _are_ little,” The guy hummed.

“Don’t fucking call me _little_ , asshole,” Virgil hissed angrily. He managed to stand up straight with fury. The guy was laughing, but Virgil didn’t get why. Virgil looked at him incredulously for a moment and looked over to check on Remy. Remy was spinning the bottle and Virgil felt awful for some reason. He braced himself on the wall and swallowed hard. Remy got up and went off with _Roman_ of all people and Virgil felt even sicker. He held his stomach and tried to breathe through the sickness against the wall.

“You are absolutely trashed, huh?” He asked, sounding amused.

“I am _very_ much so, yes,” Virgil chuckled weakly. He didn’t want to think about what they were doing. “So, like, what do you think happens when you die? Do you think ghosts are real? I like the idea of there being ghosts,” Virgil said airily, still feeling absolutely sick to his stomach but mostly distracted from what he just saw. “I should really eat food,” He added and held his stomach.

“I’ll come with you to get chips,” He said, looking at Virgil oddly.

“No, I like the wall. I don’t want chips, I want pancakes. Or waffles. I hear the ingredients are similar, but they just hit _different,_ right?” Virgil collapsed a little against the wall. Remy and Roman came back and he glared at Roman. Roman didn’t seem to notice him, though. He looked like he was on cloud nine. Fucker. He better not try to steal Remy away. He had to show Remy he was better somehow. Virgil glowered at him.

“What are you mad about now, short stack?” He chuckled, looking at Virgil and reaching over to ruffle his hair. Virgil tried to knock his hand away, but Virgil was either too drunk or the mountain-tall man was really fucking strong because he had no effect.

“My lack of pancakes,” Virgil grumbled and tried to fix his hair, but maybe he didn’t do that great of a job. He pulled up his hood instead of trying any further to fix it.

“What’re you drinking, little guy? I’ll top you up,” The tall-tall dude offered. Maybe he wasn’t that tall. Maybe Remus was taller. Virgil was too drunk for spatial reasoning.

“Nothing,” Virgil grumbled. “Too drunk. Wanna get pancakes for Remy,” Virgil said stoutly. “And a nap. I’m tired. I want pancakes and I wanna go to bed. Where’s Remus?” He whined petulantly and the guy laughed again, and it was kind of a weird laugh. “What’s so funny, bitch?”

“Bitch, _huh_?” The guy said darkly and moved closer to Virgil. “How about you come with me and I’ll get you some pancakes?” He asked and tugged at Virgil’s hoodie string playfully.

“You mean it?” Virgil looked up to him in excitement. Remy wanted pancakes! He wanted pancakes! Pancakes! “Uh, wait, how are we getting them?” Virgil asked, realizing he was talking to a stranger at a house party where drinking was involved. Very involved. So drunk. No pancakes here.

“We’ll take my car,” He played with Virgil’s bangs now, and Virgil once again failed to smack his hand away, but it was whatever. His bangs were probably already a mess.

“I don’t ride with drunk drivers,” Virgil said firmly, making a face at him.

“I’m not drinking. See a cup in my hands?” The guy held out his hands and moved closer to Virgil. “No drinks. Does my breath smell like it?” The guy leaned down and exhaled in Virgil’s face. He didn’t back off after that. He was weirdly close for a stranger. People didn’t normally get that close to Virgil. There was probably a reason for that. Something in him was vibrating angrily. It was probably just the alcohol?

“Uh, no, it’s weirdly minty, actually. Smells almost like a candy cane,” Virgil said, surprised. “Okay, then. Lemme get Remy so we can get pancakes! Remus doesn’t normally get to talk to people so I don’t wanna bug him. Will you bring us back here? He probably wants some, too,” Virgil smiled up at the guy happily.

“We can bring back pancakes for both your friends, it’s fine,” The guy grinned.

“No, Remy deserves them fresh!” Virgil whined, trying to get up off the wall, but the guy pushed him back down.

“We’ll hurry back, they’ll still be hot,” He hissed and Virgil furrowed his brow at him.

“Remy wants pancakes!” Virgil said loudly. Wow, when did this guy end up in his face?

“We’ll get him pancakes. Come on, the sooner we go to get pancakes, the sooner you can bring them back to your friend,” The guy said, grabbing Virgil’s shoulder.

“Ow! Don’t grab so _hard_ , shithead,” Virgil said angrily and shoved off the guy’s hand. It took a lot of effort and the guy helped him stand back up straight. “Sorry. Just be fucking _careful_ ,” Virgil grumbled.

“What, you don’t like it rough?” He cackled.

“No! Does _anybody_ like it that rough? You might have fucking _bruised_ me,” Virgil muttered. “Sorry,” Virgil said weakly. “I don’t feel good,” Virgil rubbed his head and moved to hold his stomach again.

“I’ll help you to the bathroom, how about that?” He offered, sounding annoyed.

“It’s whatever, lemme just get Remy, pancakes’ll help,” Virgil said resolutely. “Um, we’re still getting pancakes, right?” Virgil looked up to him sheepishly.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Come on, I’ll show you to my car,” The guy grabbed Virgil’s arm.

“Sweet,” Virgil cheered. “Remus! I’m heading out! Be back! Come on, Remy, pancakes!” Virgil called as the guy tugged at Virgil’s wrist.

“Shit,” The guy hissed and started pulling Virgil along, but Virgil was thrown off balance and fell to the floor.

He was really fucking dizzy now, and his nose hurt. He didn’t think he could get up and his head was swimming. There was some kind of muffled noises he couldn’t place around him because his ears were roaring with dizziness. He slowly moved to hold his head and try to stop the awful spinning. He felt Remus’s hand on his back for a moment, but it disappeared. He was just so fucking sick. He drank too much. He considered just sleeping right here. Floor was nice. Helped with the dizzy. Grounding. Hah. Virgil groaned into the hard floor.

There was a new hand on his back this time. Remy. Remy’s hand. He liked Remy’s hand. Remy tapped at the hand over his ear and Virgil moved it for him, gripping the floor instead.

“V, are you okay?” Remy asked, sounding freaked out. Was something happening?

“I drank too much,” Virgil mumbled into the floor. “’Vrythin’ okay?” Virgil slurred.

“Here, I’ll help you up,” Remy said, sounding concerned.

“No, floor _nice_ ,” Virgil whined in objection.

“V, this is a stranger’s floor at a house party,” Remy tapped at Virgil’s shoulder.

“Oh. Okay,” Virgil conceded, and Remy reached under him to help him sit up against the wall. “Hey,” Virgil drawled and smiled when he saw Remy’s face.

“Were you drinking anything?” Remy asked, sounding almost in a panic.

“Nah, too drunk. Stopped drinkin-in-in-in’,” Virgil trilled. “I found a dude to take us to get _pancakes_ ,” Virgil said excitedly. “Pancakes!” He cheered. “Remember, you said you wanted them? I found a guy, we can pan the cake,” Virgil grinned widely.

“Um,” Remy said, rubbing the back of his head.

“Did he fucking touch you, V?” Remus sat down in front of Virgil, and he looked pissed.

“Uh, who?” Virgil cocked his head. “Oh, Remus, you want pancakes? I was gonna go get them with Remy, didn’t want to distract you from arty-art-art,” Virgil said happily.

“You can pull me away any time, dude,” Remus rubbed his head. “You’re okay, right?”

“I’m too ducking frunk,” Virgil nodded. He processed what he said and cackled at his own words. “ _Pancakes_ will help. Where’s the pancake dude, anyway? He was right here a second ago,” Virgil slurred lightly, looking around, but he moved his head too quickly and had to hold his head. “Ugh,” Virgil groaned.

“He, um, he left,” Remy said, looking around nervously, staring Remus in the eyes. Remus still looked really mad, but Remy glared and mouthed something at him and Remus softened. Virgil had absolutely no idea what was happening and rubbed his face instead.

“How about some fresh air, V?” Remus asked, sounding upset. Was Remus okay? Remus smiled at Virgil and it was a good smile and maybe Virgil was overreacting. He tried to move his legs, but they didn’t seem to want to listen to him.

“I think my legs are jelly,” Virgil giggled, poking at them.

“Ro! We’re waiting in the car!” Remus called out.

“What? Why?” Roman called back from across the room through the noise.

“Virgil’s _sick_ , fuckhead!” Remus shouted back angrily.

“Ugh, fine,” Roman walked over across the room, around the couch and over to them. “When was your last drink?” He asked impatiently.

“45 minutes ago, probably,” Remus said. “Been distracted and never got a refill,” He added offhandedly.

“Fine, text me when you’re sober enough to drive. I was about 20 minutes ago, so you’re designated,” Roman said in a huff.

“Gee, way to be sensitive,” Remy drawled. Roman jumped like he hadn’t noticed Remy there and turned bright red for some reason before he ran off. “Ha! Dork. It was just a kiss. Your brother is _weird_ ,” Remy rolled his eyes and Virgil’s stomach turned again. Virgil groaned and held it. 

“He _is_ fucking weird. Okay, V, I’m gonna carry you,” Remus said, slowly reaching out. Virgil didn't feel ready to be moved but also didn't want to stay here.

“Ream, are you okay?” Virgil gasped when caught sight of some blood on Remus's knuckles.

“It’s not mine. Come on,” Remus said and picked up Virgil off the floor, carrying him carefully in his arms, Virgil hanging limply with his head pressed against Remus’s chest while he carried him out. Remus was always so warm. “You holding up okay?” Remus asked carefully.

“Yeah. I’m sad we don’t get pancakes,” Virgil grumbled.

“You have toaster strudels, buddy, that’s even better,” Remus suggested quietly.

“Oh, shit, really?” Virgil brightened. “Remy, do you want some toaster strudels?” Virgil asked excitedly.

“Um, yeah… that sounds good, V,” Remy said awkwardly, looking away.

“Are you okay? You’re acting weird,” Virgil said and yawned tiredly as Remus set him down in the back seat of Remus’s car.

“Am _I_ okay?” Remy shot, then shook his head for a moment, exhaling in frustration. “Yeah. I’m fine. How about you lie down?” He asked Remy climbed in on the other side and Virgil tiredly shifted to lay his head in Remy’s lap. “Are you comfy?”

“Very. Want the radiator,” Virgil said sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

“I won’t fit back there with you, V, I’d rather you lie down,” Remus said, closing the car door to the driver’s side seat and sitting sideways by throwing his legs up on the bench.

“You guys are acting funny,” Virgil sighed sadly. “Is it ‘cuz I drank too much? I’m sorry,” Virgil said weakly. “I wanted to join, but couldn’t work up the, uh, nerve,” Virgil muttered.

“No, it’s fine,” Remy said softly, putting his hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “It’s okay, I was sick of that party anyway. Maybe we should have stayed home tonight,” Remy sounded really upset.

“Aw, you didn’t get to do the friend thing? Remus talked to some people! I saw, it was awesome,” Virgil said cheerily but was cut off by a yawn.

“They were just trash people,” Remy said bitterly. “It’s whatever,” He waved his hand dismissively.

“I’ll fight whoever hurt you!” Virgil shot, holding his fist in the air.

“Woah, settle down, babe,” Remy said, slowly lowering Virgil’s arm. “Nobody hurt _me_ ,” He clarified. Remus was grumbling in the front seat. “ _You too_ ,” Remy said pointedly to Remus.

“It’s hard _not_ to be pissed, Rem,” Remus grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Did those fuckers say something mean?” Virgil narrowed his eyes in indignation.

“No, buddy, it's all good now,” Remus rolled his eyes. “I can take care of myself and they liked my art installation. They weren’t down with the message. But I’ll take the win,” Remus said flippantly.

“Aw, it’s a good message,” Virgil whined tiredly.

“It is,” Remus nodded, looking much more pleased.

“Which installation did they see?” Remy asked and Virgil blinked a few times, struggling to keep them open. Closing eyes while dizzy was usually bad, and he didn’t want to risk it.

“The dragon one. I’m working on another part to it, but this one is bigger,” Remus explained, though he sounded weirdly distracted and was looking at Virgil. Virgil rubbed his eyes again. He was just so dizzy. Remy’s lap was nice, though. Having Remy’s hand on his shoulder was kind of grounding. It wasn’t as warm as Remus’s but it was just so strangely comforting. He never wanted it to leave.

“Will the new installation have the same message?” Remy asked, rubbing Virgil’s arm slightly. The motion seemed like it would be an awful idea, but it felt so nice instead of bad.

“Kinda. This one is more ‘life is short’ than the original,” Remus explained, but it seemed kind of distant.

Virgil yawned again and closed his eyes. The world was spinning either way, so it didn’t seem like it would hurt to just rest his eyes a bit. Remy probably had him. Remy’s lap was so nice. He wanted to live there. Remy and Remus were still talking, but it was all just too far away to make out now. Maybe he was falling asleep. That would be nice. He wouldn’t have to be dizzy anymore if he was asleep. He still kind of felt Remy’s hand rubbing his arm, and he focused on that until he drifted off properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene was referanced in [Chapter 13](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23408695/chapters/56358496) of Painful Death for the Lactose Intolerant. 
> 
> Looped the Hell out of "like the cool kids" off the [Painful Death Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/09VrOYQ6sbkl0uuT8Lna8b?si=0jbWCjbiRWWbxORhZIXH6Q) writing this one.
> 
> Drunk Virgil is basically a feral raccoon look at this aggressive child long for pancakes and threaten people three times his size.


	10. R.I.P. Vine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They like vines so much it hurts them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: excessive stupidity threatened their lives today

Remy did not understand what had happened. He just had to take a piss. What could have transpired while he left that caused this? Virgil rolled on the kitchen floor. He had absolutely fucking lost it. He guffawed so hard he had tears rolling down his face. Remus sat at the kitchen table shirtless, which wasn’t abnormal, but for whatever reason had a dark sauce dripped across his chest as he ate a roast beef sandwich. Remus didn’t acknowledge Virgil dying of laughter on the floor at all.

“Can you…” Remy motioned between Remus and Virgil. Remus grunted and shrugged while he chewed in response. “V?” Remy asked incredulously as Virgil held his sides and rolled on the floor. Virgil started coughing he laughed so hard and Remy rushed down to help him sit up and hold up his arms. “Virgil, what the fuck?” Remy shot, holding his arms in the air while he wracked with laughter.

“He’s just sitting there!” Virgil tried to explain, but his words got broken up by cackling again. “Barbecue sauce on his titties!” He finally finished and Remus choked on his fucking sandwich when he started roaring with laughter. Remy would have laughed too, but he was too busy panicking about both of his friend’s fucking choking on their own stupidity and a sandwich.

“Remus, fuck!” Remy surged up off the floor and threw up Remus’s arms in the air. Remy tried to push Remus out of the chair to get access to his torso to perform the Heimlich maneuver, but Remus hacked up a small bite of sandwich onto his plate without Remy’s help. Virgil kept holding up his arms, coughing instead of laughing now but eventually starting to settle down. Remy rubbed his face in frustration, feeling both immensely relieved and incredibly pissed off.

“Thanks, Rem,” Remus coughed for a moment before chuckling again.

“I can’t believe a goddamn vine reference nearly killed you fucking idiots,” Remy groaned sharply, sitting on the floor next to Virgil to make sure he was okay. Virgil and Remus shot each other a look and started giggling again. Remy pat Virgil’s back and shook his head. But laughter bubbled up in him irresistibly from the ridiculousness of it all, and Remy broke down and started fucking laughing, too.

“We almost died!” Remus cackled, holding his stomach.

“I know!” Virgil shouted back, his arms in the air, shaking from the coughing and laughter.

“You’re both so fucking dumb,” Remy shouted between snorts and cackles, shaking his head. He laughed so hard his head hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> ♪ [Painful Death Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/09VrOYQ6sbkl0uuT8Lna8b?si=0jbWCjbiRWWbxORhZIXH6Q) ♫
> 
> Questions, comments, concerns, incoherent screaming, quotes you just liked, theories, what you think the contents of their groupchat are, and memes all welcome in the comment section below. Even an extra <3 kudos is greatly appreciated! I am emotionally validated by inbox notifications. Also they help me remember to take notes on stuff I forgot or fix problems in the next chapter, so they help me write!  
> 
> 
> [Story Discord Server](https://discord.gg/ThcDBSP)
> 
> writing/sanders sides tumblr: [@onthevirgeofdestruction](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/onthevirgeofdestruction/)  
> 


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